I Meet the (Former) President of the United States
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: This is a true story of the time that I met what of the living former Presidents. The cover image kind of gives it away!


**I Meet the (Former) President of the United States**

It was College Family Weekend 2014. That Saturday morning, October 25th, I was in the hotel room at the Hilton Suites in town that my family rented for such occasions. Being a sophomore, I was well accustomed to the procedure of staying in this place off-campus. On this particular morning, though, things would be different. I had just woken up when Dad returned from fetching the rest of us breakfast downstairs. He seemed bursting with news.

"Jimmy Carter's staying here, at this hotel," he told my mother.

"Come again?" we both asked, not quite believing him.

"Yeah, he's here to officiate a wedding in the city. I saw him down at breakfast this morning with the Secret Service. They just left for the ceremony, in these big SUV convoys. They should be returning about 11:30." I looked out our window and down below, I could see yellow RESERVED parking signs occupying maybe 4 or 5 spaces. As an amateur presidential historian, my mind swirled. Jimmy Carter…

James Earl Carter Jr. had been elected the 39th President of the United States nearly a generation earlier, in one of the most successful dark-horse campaigns in recent history. Tragically, circumstances beyond his control had eroded his popularity and cast him out of office after only one term. He was to be replaced by Ronald Reagan, now revered as a saint among the American Right. In his nearly 3 1/2 decades after leaving the White House, Jimmy Carter had re-invented himself (and a now record-setting post-presidency) to become an international problem solver, combating disease and fighting for democracy around the world.

A new thought jolted my brain. Dad said they would be coming back at 11:30. I could…could I?

"I'm gonna go get dressed!" I practically squealed, doing just that in record time, even though it was barely 10:00 AM. I waited anxiously for the next hour or so, refusing to focus on little else but the President. Even when Dad took us guys out for a walk, I made sure we did not stray too far from the hotel.

11:30 neared as we sat by the pool. I pushed everybody back to the lobby, not wanting to miss a glimpse of the President. My father approached a Secret Service agent, easily recognizable in his black suit, and asked him if it would be ok if we could meet President Carter and perhaps get a picture. The agent replied that both we permitted. I waited in a chair, my eyes focusing like lasers on the automatic front doors. Just beyond the glass, another agent - complete with the classic white earpiece - patrolled the entrance. I passed the remaining time by chatting with the agents on duty. There were two of them there, both based out of the local Secret Service office. One of them I could tell had grown up somewhere nearby, judging by his accent, but he paid little attention to me. The other, whom Dad had questioned, was more amiable and polite. He introduced himself as Gene, and went around asking casual questions. He reminded me a lot of a neighbor complete with the wolfish-gray hair.

Not long after 11:30, a black SUV pulled up. I sat up a little straighter. _This could be it, by God_ , I thought. An agent opened the doors…but it was only Rosalynn, Jimmy's wife. Still, that was something. I recognized her instantly, having seen her on TV. And she looked wonderful, for someone in her early 90's. She and a few others, who I guessed were relatives, entered the hotel. I was too nervous to say hello, and the party was whisked upstairs. A little later, the relatives returned and sat nearby me, engaging the other agent from Mecklenburg County in conversation. Gene the Secret Service Man tried to ease my patience. "They'll be coming back soon," he would say. Carter and his detail had stopped to observe a NASCAR race on the way back. In the meantime, Gene chatted me up and I told him about Davidson and what I wanted to study. Occasionally, he would mosey on around and chatted with my father and my one brother. The questions he asked seemed friendly enough, although Dad would remind me later that this was all a security tactic, to ensure we meant the President no harm.

Finally, at around 12:20, an outfitted white car pulled up. Out stepped the man himself. He sure looked great, for someone who had celebrated his 90th birthday mere weeks before. He entered with the agents.

"How was y'all's morning?" he asked the lobby at large, sporting his iconic toothy grin. Gene ushered me forward slightly, indicating to me that he would introduce me to the President. It was a miracle I wasn't shaking. A former leader of our country was standing mere feet from me; I could have reached out and touched him…and probably gotten run over by an agent. What should I do? Did I have to salute, bow or something, out of respect?

Just then, Gene introduced me. Carter and I locked eyes and he smiled. Then, before I realized what was happening, I shook the President of the United States' hand.

"Hi, Mr. President," I said, with an odd air not befitting the moment, as if I was meeting a classmate or relative.

"What's your name?" he asked me. I told him.

"Good to meet you." Then he moved on towards the elevators. "Good morning, Mr. President," I heard my father call out from the back corner of the room.

As soon as Carter and his team had disappeared upstairs, Dad and my brother came up.

"Hey, bud, I couldn't get the picture, I'm sorry," Dad apologized, referring to a promise he had made to me earlier. He seemed very mad with himself. As he had gone to snap the moment, his Samsung android phone (which he had never liked) flashed directions to hold still. This went on until Dad was practically punching the phone with his fist, but by that time the moment had passed. Gene, who had stayed at his post downstairs, sounded bummed. "We can try to get you another one," he offered. We knew it would have been rude to impose, however, so we thanked him for his help. Then, we went to join Mom and my other brother in the car to return to campus, Dad swearing up and down at himself and at his crappy phone all the way there.

I never did get that picture. The next morning, the convoy left in a procession of glory, to take Carter back to Plains, Georgia. Still, I had a memory that I will always cherish.


End file.
